


White Lies

by NoneOfYourConcern



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-02-27 01:22:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2673620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoneOfYourConcern/pseuds/NoneOfYourConcern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma Ward was just a regular housewife with a child who works in an average laboratory and was perfectly normal. At least, that's what her husband the specialist believed to be true until he came face to face with her at his next SHIELD assignment</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's a Wonderful Day in the Neighborhood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SapphireBlueJiyuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireBlueJiyuu/gifts).



Jemma Ward was just a regular housewife with a child who works in an average laboratory and was perfectly normal. At least, that's what her husband the specialist believed to be true until he came face to face with her at his next SHIELD assignment.

 

Chapter 1  
It's a Wonderful Day in the Neighborhood

7:01 on the dot. The Li's dog would begin barking as Mr. Li backed out of his driveway in the slightly older model Lexus to his humdrum job. His wife in her faded purple bathrobe waved from the front porch before she would turn to shush their barking dog. They did this every day like clock work. Grant Ward appreciated this as he ran by them, his daily routine. He like the predictability in the movements of his neighbors. It was why he'd chosen to buy his house here, in this particular neighborhood. He'd done a lot of research. His wife had made several disparaging comments about the house and neighborhood when he'd first shown it to her. It was too boring for her tastes. Her dislike of it had been apparent. But she'd been heavily pregnant and too hormonal to be too picky, “And it has great schools” he'd whispered into her ear. After that, she'd been very easy to convince.

 

His morning workouts ended every morning at 7:05 . He jogged up to his very inconspicuous, two story home and greeted the family dog, Ginger. The German Sheppard trotted up to him and panted happily when he gave her a quick scratch behind the ear. 

He moved on to the kitchen where, as usual, his wife was attempting to feed their daughter, Evelyn, something organic and healthy. To Grant, quite frankly, it looked disgusting. He stood in the hall for a second and watched as their daughter Evelyn made a big fuss about wanting something else for breakfast. His wife, Jemma, couldn't cook if her life depended on it. He noticed her bags were already placed at the foot of the stairs. She had some kind of science conference. Grant usually tuned her out when she started talking about her work. She was a lab tech with a small firm called TaylorCo. The exact details of what she did were a bit confusing to him. It involved a lot of science and technology that was lost on him. Sometimes she had to travel with the company for presentations, like today.

 

“Good morning!” Grant announced to the kitchen.

 

His daughter immediately lit up. Her hands, covered in something unidentifiable reached out to him. “Daddy. Up!” Evelyn immediately demanded. His wife did not seem pleased with this.

 

“Evelyn, you're not done eating yet.” Jemma's eyes quietly pleaded with Grant for help.

 

“Mom is right, you need to eat your breakfast.” Evelyn gave him a pout, but made a grand gesture of putting spoonfuls of the mystery goop into her mouth. “That's better,” he picked her up and gave her kisses all over face, making funny noises as he did so.

 

Evelyn giggled in delight. The second her father stopped her brown eyes got immediately bigger and she said, with all the innocence and seriousness she could muster, “Daddy, I wants to wash Yo Gabba Gabba now,” She waited and then while putting her hands on his cheek and looking him straight in the eyes she added, “Pees.” Grant quickly looked over to his wife for her permission. She rolled her eyes but smiled and turned around to start cleaning the kitchen. Grant was powerless against his daughter. Luckily she'd never demanded anything too outrageous, and Jemma had refused to let him spoil her.

 

After settling Evie down and making sure she was sufficiently drawn in by the television (but he'd learned that Yo Gabba Gabba had the ability to turn children into zombies) he went back into the kitchen and saw Jemma scrubbing a pot twice as hard as was probably necessary. That was a telltale sign she was stressed. She'd been stressed more that usual over the past 9 months. She'd said work was getting to her, he wasn't sure if he believed her. Something else was bothering her.

 

“You're torturing the pot,” He whispered into her neck. He started kneading some of the knots out of her back while slowly kissing her up her neck. Jemma gave up scrubbing the pot and turned around. He used his hands to pin her between himself and the sink. “What's wrong Jem?” She gave him a bright smile, but her eyes, they were sad. She then looked into his eyes, and there was a fire behind them he almost never saw. She leapt up and attacked his lips with hers passionately. Her hands, wet from the dishes were climbing up and clawing at him and trying to find any way to leverage herself for a better position. He quickly picked her up and placed on the edge of the kitchen sink. They both tried desperately to get as close to each other as humanly possible and Grant would have taken her then and there had their daughter not been in the next room. It took every ounce of willpower they had to pull their lips away and temper their lust.

 

With their foreheads touching, Grant kept one of his rough calloused hands on Jemma’s cheek to gently stroke her flushed skin. He sighed loudly, frustrated with her lack of communication. When he started to pull away, she put her hand on top of his and brought it to her lips. “Promise me you'll be careful,” she demanded.

 

“Of course I'll be careful,” Grant replied.

 

“Promise!”

 

“I promise you, Jemma Ward, that I will be very careful,”

 

Jemma didn't know exactly what he did. She knew he worked for the government in some kind of capacity, and that what he did was a secret and sometimes dangerous. Grant worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. as a specialist. He often told himself that his decision to keep this from his family was for their protection. No one at work knew he was married or had a child. It could put them in danger. At least that's what he told himself each time he started to feel guilty. However he found comfort in knowing that his wife would never know the details of what his occupation entailed. It might make her worry. Lately when he came home, he could sense worry radiating off of his wife. As if she knew that there had been something to worry about.

 

“Is this about your conference in Denver?” Grant asked. Trying to both deflect and ease the tension. “I'm sure your speech about...” he genuinely didn't know what her speech was about.

 

“The virology of the H5N1 Influenza and the probability of it becoming an epidemic to the U.S. livestock through cross species infection?” she parroted while rolling her eyes. This was a common occurrence. She said something that sounded even slightly scientific, and Grant's eyes glazed over. “No, that's old news. I could give a lecture like this one in my sleep.” She smiled with a confidence that was her signature.

 

“You know, you're really sexy when you speak science” Grant whispered into her ear.

 

“You'll get nowhere with me until you've showered,” Jemma mocked him as she wrinkled her nose. “And Mrs. Bronson will be here soon enough to watch Evie.” She smiled as she hopped off the kitchen counter and pushed him up the stairs toward the shower. Seeing as he had little say in the matter, Grant did as he was told.

 

As far as Jemma knew, Mrs. Bronson was a retired school teacher who now filled up her loneliness by caring for other peoples children as a nanny. But Grant had actually hired Mrs. Bronson, the retired ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. operative who terrified more than just a little bit but had saved his life countless times. More importantly he trusted her to look after and keep his daughter safe while he was on assignment and his wife was at work.

 

With their three year old daughter on his hip, Grant waved to Jemma as she backed out of the driveway. When her car was no longer visible he turned around and got ready for just another day as a S.H.I.E.L.D. specialist. He wanted that disconcerting look she gave him to mean nothing, that everything in his mundane home would stay the same, but life hardly ever went as planned, no matter how hard one tries. 

 

Song Playlist: Reflections By: Misterwives

 

Special Thanks To: SapphyreGlyphs for her hard work editing and constant encouragement. 

 

Marvels Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. obviously belongs to Marvel. I’m just having a heck of a time playing pretend with some of their characters.


	2. From the East to the South

Grant arrived at the S.H.I.E.L.D. base an hour after his wife left for her conference. After which he was immediately cornered by Skye. Skye, was a former “hacktevist” turned probationary S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and as her Supervising Officer it was his job to train her as well as make sure she stayed out of trouble. Keeping her out of trouble was the harder of the two jobs.

Grant was a specialist at S.H.I.E.L.D. and had been trained to work alone. Four years ago, he'd been recruited to become a part of a temporary team. Agent Phil Coulson, a legend at S.H.I.E.L.D. and a man Grant had great respect for had asked him personally to join himself and Agent May on a very important mission. That temporary position had turned into a four year partnership.

They'd found Skye through one of their assignments two years later and it was Agent Coulson who was very enthusiastic that she join their team. Grant protested, Skye was an unknown variable, but had been overruled by Coulson. Grant was somehow then saddled with training the rookie, and turning her into a real agent. 

“Have they told you what we'll be doing in Paris for two weeks yet?” Skye asked. She was bursting out of her skin with nervous energy.

“Trust the system, Skye. They'll tell us when when we need to know.” It was a phrase Grant told her often but one she rarely ever heard.

“Ugh, but Coulson's been in there for hours! And I've never been to Paris! Do you think we'll' get to see the Eiffel Tower?” She looked like she might start skipping.

“Do I need to add fifty push ups to your daily routine?” He asked her. Skye could tell by his expression, he was not being sarcastic.

“I already ran two extra miles. On purpose.” She huffed in frustration.

Grant looked at her with surprise; Skye exercising more than was required of her was abnormal. He wondered if all the women in his life were going to be in a strange mood today.

Skye took a deep breath and looked at him seriously. “Ward, come on. I know you know something!”

Grant deflected and instead asked, “What's Agent May doing?”

“Meditating,” Skye trembled with disgust - which she didn't bother hiding.

“You should try it, Skye. They say meditation is good for your soul.” Grant teased.

Skye took a deep breath before she implored in a slightly crazed tone “Ward, my fingers are twitching. I am this close to hacking the nearest computer I can get my hands on and finding out the specks on our next mission. Could we please go to the TOY Room. I heard they just got a bunch of new stuff in.”

“Ah, so you just want my clearance level.” Grant turned and started walking in the direction of the TOY room. She was allowed access, but only if he accompanied her. He could see it was the only thing that was going to keep Skye entertained. And her fingers really were starting to twitch. 

“And your sparkling personality,” Skye snorted. When she was sure her S.O. couldn't see her, she celebrated with a backward elbow thrust.

“I saw that,” Grant told her as he kept walking.

* * * * *

The TOY room was a restricted area where S.H.I.E.L.D.’s field agents with a high enough clearance level were encouraged to workshop through different gadgets, gizmos, weapons and other various different devices to decide what might be useful in the field. If a product showed promise, or needed improvement, they left notes for the engineers, which weren't always well received.

Grant and Skye spent a couple hours going through a few different items in the room. Nothing caught their interest. There was a laser that too bulky for anything practical. The contact lenses that read lips were mildly interesting, but glitched whenever Skye used slang words.

That's when Skye saw it. It was sleek, silver with blue highlights. The gun called to her. She walked straight for it and immediately picked it up to aim it at imaginary targets.

“What's this one?” Skye asked, her eyes sparkled with delight. “I think its by FitzSimmons. They always make the coolest toys!”

FitzSimmons were a well known but rarely seen wonder-duo that many said were capable of working magic. Though often referred to as one unit, FitzSimmons was actually made up of Agent L. Fitz and Agent J. Simmons. They embodied everything the S.H.I.E.L.D. research division stood for, and were two of it's best agents.

“These are not toys, Skye,” Grand admonished, “they are weapons. And you don’t pick up a new weapon until you've-”

“read the pamphlet. Yes, I know,” she finished. She put the cool-looking gun down and muttered under her breath “then it shouldn't be called the TOY Room,” before picking up the pamphlet next to it. “Ah, I was right. It is from FitzSimmons. It delivers non-lethal...”

“Give me the English version, not the science version,” Grant clipped at her.

“It's a gun that knocks people out long enough for you to take them in without killing them,” Skye finished in a clipped tone.

Grant nodded in approval. He picked it up and, mimicking Skye's movements from earlier, aimed the gun. “It's got two problems.”

“Only two? That's high praise coming from you,” Skye laughed. Grand had apparently developed a reputation for finding flaws in weapons that had taken S.H.I.E.L.D. teams months to perfect.

“It's an ounce too heavy,” Grant stated.

Skye rolled her eyes and muttered something that sounded like ,“The Princess and the Pea 2.0,” before writing it down in the chart next to where the pamphlet had been located. “What else is wrong with it?”

“There's no way to test if it works,” Grant stated, as if it was obvious.

They looked around. There were several agents in the large room looking at the different paraphernalia. Skye then spotted Agent Driver, a good looking man in his mid 30’s, a few stalls down. 

“Do you remember that agent I caught trying to feel up that waitress when we were in the middle of that job in Melbourne, and nearly got you shot?” Skye asked slyly.

“Agent Driver?” Grant asked with contempt.

Skye pointed subtly with her finger towards the offending agent.

“Yeah, I could shoot him,” Grant said. “To test if the gun works,” he quickly added. 

Just as Grant was raising the gun and aiming it at Driver, his phone went off. It was Agent Coulson. Skye pouted when she leaned over and say Agent Coulson’s name appear on the screen of her SO’s phone.

On their way out of the TOY room, Skye couldn’t help but call out to Agent Driver and taunt him, “Saved by the bell, Driver!” 

The agent in question turned to look at Agents Skye and Ward as the exited the sliding door, oblivious to their plans to use him as a guinea pig.

* * * * *

Grant and Skye arrived at to meeting at the same time as Agent May. They nodded towards each other in greeting before entering the room. Right away, Grant knew something was off.

Their mission was in Paris, but there was a map of Mexico City up on the holo-table.

Also, the strategy room was crowded with people Grant knew were not a part of their mission. In one corner of the room Agent Coulson was attempting to speak on the phone while simultaneously have a conversation with Agent Victoria Hand. And if Agent Hand was here, something ominous had happened. In a nutshell, her presence meant bad news.

It was clear they were disagreeing on something, and Coulson looked furious. They seemed to be blaming each other for whatever the issue was and Grant had to strain to hear snippets of their conversation.

“You’ve screwed this up enough. Even Hill agrees.” Coulson said. “We’re going with my plan.”

“I should be leading the recovery; they’re my agents.” Hand fought back.

“Take it up with Agent Hill,” Coulson told her. 

Coulson turned and acknowledged his team who were standing in the back of the room. Agent Hand turned and with her usual dour expression she shook Coulson’s hand and wished him luck.

“I’ll keep you apprised.” Coulson replied.

“I would appreciate it.” With that Agent Hand ordered all the men and women out of the room with her.

Coulson took a deep breath and took a moment to get his bearings before addressing his team, “Paris is going to another team. We have a more pressing matter to attend to.”

Skye looked like she might complain but wisely stayed silent. Grant was the first to ask, “What's the new mission, sir.”

“We need to rescue FitzSimmons,” Coulson said flatly.

“Wait!,” Skye exclaimed, “the FitzSimmons?!”

“Yes, Skye. The very same,” Coulson nodded. “They were out in the field, investigating claims of a dangerous new bioweapon fifty kilometers south of Guadalajara. They were examining some of the infected individuals, and the surrounding area in the local village.”

“Do we know how they were taken?” May asked.

Couslon handed out some files, and everyone browsed them.

“The rest of their team claims that they were ambushed shortly after they arrived at the site. They took FitzSimmons and left the rest of the team and most of the village unconscious. We don't know what the they used to render everyone unconscious, and we don't know why they took FitzSimmons. FitzSimmons wear a distress beacon they designed. Both seem to be working, the signals should lead us right to where they're being held.” Couslon paused briefly to make sure the team was following along before continuing. “It appears they're being held separately. Agent May and Skye will retrieve Agent Simmons, Agent Ward and I will retrieve agent Fitz.”

“Where are their pictures?” Skye asked.

“Agent May trained Agent Simmons, and can identify her without a picture,” Coulson and May shared a significant look.

“And you'll be identifying Agent Fitz?” Grant guessed.

“Dr. Blake will be joining us on the Bus incase anyone needs medical attention. Wheels up in 20,” Coulson finished, turning to May, who nodded.

On their way out of the room, Coulson turned to Skye and May. He whispered something to them, then gave them a meaningful look.

Grant wondered at the degree of secrecy for a pair of level five agents. They were given only initials for their first names on documentation, no photos, there was more red tape around these two than he'd ever seen before, including Agent Hand. Grant inferred that there was more to FitzSimmons then he was allowed to know. He wondered briefly if they were dangerous.

Agent Coulson was being very tight lipped about the whole situation. S.H.I.E.L.D. liked to compartmentalize the accessibility of their information based on an agent’s level and a need-to-know basis. Coulson however, liked to tell his team everything he knew, believing in open communication. Grant could do his job just fine with both. But the fact that Coulson had suddenly changed his method of operation did make him wonder exactly what they were flying into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:   
> Golden By: Parade of Lights  
> Time of My Life (cover) by: MS MR
> 
> AN: Special thanks to SapphireGlyphs for her wonderful editing skills and patience.   
> Also, yes there is a reason why Grant doesn’t connect the name Simmons to his wife.


	3. He Never Ever Saw It Coming At All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Rating has changed due to sexual content. And also, sorry this took so long, but work has been my priority for the past month.

Four Years Earlier: Vancouver, Canada

Grant gulped down his third scotch of the night. He sat at the bar bored and, though he'd never admit it out loud, feeling a little lonely. He motioned to the bartender to bring him another, making sure the man saw him put another five in the tip jar. It was the only way to ensure he'd be served promptly in a nightclub full of women in skimpy dresses.

Coulson and May had dropped him off, booked him a room and told him to take a few days off in Vancouver while they took care of something that was above his clearance level. When he asked them why Vancouver, Coulson said it was because he had to meet an informant there before taking off to a classified location.

A drink appeared in front of him and he immediately took a sip before realizing it was a cranberry and vodka. Clearly not his scotch.

“That was mine,” A woman with a British accent said to his right. Grant turned to look at her and found a gorgeous brunette with hazel brown eyes in a lacy purple dress. She was dressed for a wedding, not a night club. She was leaning up against the counter, and looked unhappy that he'd just taken her drink. 

She lifted her eyebrow and smiled at him when he turned to look at her fully.

Grant smirked at her. “My mistake.” He held out the cranberry vodka he'd just taken a drink out of.

“Why should I take that? It's got your germs on it now. The proper thing to do would be to buy me another drink, ” the British woman took the open bar stool next to his.

“What would you like? Midori Sour? Appletini? Or maybe another cranberry vodka?” Grant smiled at her while the bartender put down his scotch.

The pretty brunette smiled back and grabbed the scotch from in front of him and took a large sip. “I would have taken you for a Glenlivet man,” She smiled at him.

“What's wrong with the Macallan?”

“A Macallan man wouldn’t steal an unsuspecting woman's drink,” the British woman smiled as she took another long sip. “But I will have another whiskey, thank you,” she said with a smile as she now placed empty cup in front of him.

“You can finish the vodka.” Grant handed her the glass he was holding while he signaled the bartender for another drink. “I don't buy strangers drinks.”

“I'm Jemma. Jemma Scott.” She took a deliberate sip of the vodka cranberry. “And now that we've shared bacteria I'd say were not strangers at all.”

Grant plucked the vodka from her hands and took a slow drink while maintaining eye contact with her. “Well, Jemma,” Grant liked the way her name felt on his lips, “I'm Grant.” He leaned and whispered lightly right into the shell of her ear, “and I'm glad you're not a stranger.”

“Has anyone ever told you, you have incredibly symmetrical features,” she whispered back.

 

Present Day- Compound Outside of Mexico City

 

Everything was going relatively well for an extraction. 

Coulson and Grant had only been shot at three times on their way down to the basement room where they had found that Agent Fitz was being held. Grant could tell from the way they were shooting and the layout of the men that these were all local thugs for hire and not trained mercenaries until they'd gotten to Fitz himself. The men protecting Fitz's holding cell were professionals, but there had only been two of them. They ducked behind a corner and were able to divert their fire. Between Coulson and Grant, it'd been easy to take them out. They then breached the cell with one of SHIELDS nifty devices.

Now the only problem was that Fitz was refusing to go.

“We need to get back the data they stole,” Agent Fitz said. It took Grant and Coulson a minute to understand what he was saying with his thick scottish accent, his hands frantically running through his curly hair.

“We can discuss this on the plane, Agent Fitz, but right now our priority is to get you out of here,” Coulson told the man. Grant was made to stand there and was growing impatient. The guards were surely going to be making rounds any minute now.

“They dragged Simmons and me from Guadalajara all the way back to their base. We were on the plane for a little over an hour. Where are we now, Mexico City?” Fitz asked.

Grant didn't like where this conversation was going. Coulson gave him a look that said they were on the same page.

Fitz continued talking, “We were working on a new biochemical decryption key program. It would have Bypassed any fingerprint, DNA, or retina scan you run into. They took all of our files on it for a reason. They want something and it's here in Mexico City.”

“That could be anything,” Grant said, moving away from the door and turning to face Agent Fitz exasperated. “And who is 'they'? What do 'they' want? But more importantly, Why THE FUCK can't we discuss all this from the safety of the GODDAMN BUS!?” He seemed to make his point by turning around and shooting two more guards that had just appeared from the corner.

“Exactly, they could use it to break into anything! Secret military bases, nuclear power plants, you name it!” Fitz kept talking. He only looked slightly intimidated by Agent Ward's rant. “The Laguna Verde Nuclear Power Plant can’t be more than 2 hours away, they could be trying to break into it!”

“Fitz is right,” Coulson said, rubbing his face with the hand that wasn't currently holding his gun. “Okay, how are we supposed to find this..” he gestured towards Fitz.

“Biochemical decryption key,” Fitz interjected.

“That,” Coulson gestured with his hand again.

“Easy!” Fitz looked relieved that Coulson and Grant were taking the danger of the biochemical decryption key seriously. “Let me see one of your phones,” Fitz held his hand out to the agents.

Grant turned to Coulson, who nodded at him, before unlocking and handing the scientist the phone out of his pocket. Fitz started typing something quickly and muttering to himself. “Found it!” Fitz yelled out in triumph. “The program’s on a phone that's got a tracker on it. Just follow the signal. Looks like it's a floor below us.” Fitz said as he handed the phone back to Grant. Grant was slightly impressed, but mostly annoyed as he took the phone back.

“Alright,” Coulson said as he attempted to regain control of the situation, “Ward, you get the program. Agent Fitz, you come with me.”

“Absolutely! As soon as we get Simmons,” Fitz said determinedly.

“Agent Fitz, there's another team extracting agent Simmons,” Coulson said, with his best authoritative voice. “We need to move, now!”

“No!” Fitz said.

“No?!” Grant and Coulson asked at the same time. Grant was this close to punching the man they were supposed to be rescuing.

“I'm not going anywhere without Simmons,” Fitz said.

“Agent Fitz, either you come with us right now or Agent Ward here punches you and I drag you upstairs unconscious and against your will,” Coulson was not kidding around anymore. Grant smiled. He liked this plan.

Agent Fitz gave Grant a weary look. “Yeah, okay.” Fitz started walking toward the door before quickly stopping to look at Grant. His eyes widened. “Wait. You're Ward. Grant Ward! Agent Grant Ward!” Fitz turned frantically toward Coulson.

Grant was very confused as to why the little scientist knew and was shouting his name. His eyes narrowed toward Fitz.

“How could you bring him!?” Fitz was now shouting at Coulson. “Simmons is-”

Coulson was stretching out his hand while a knocked out Agent Fitz was on the floor. Grant didn't know what exactly had just happened but they still had a job to finish, so he said the only thing that came to mind, “How come you get to punch him?”

 

Four Years Earlier: Vancouver, Canada

 

“Dance with me,” Jemma whispered into his ear. She took his hand pulled him lightly towards the dance floor.

If there was one thing Grant knew for certain, it was that he didn't dance. Except of course when he was on a mission that required him too. It wasn't that he couldn't dance. It was that he didn't like to. So he couldn't tell you how the gorgeous petite brunette named Jemma had pulled him to the dance floor and gotten him to dance with her, willingly.

The many drinks he'd kept buying for her and himself were probably contributing to his lack of resistance. But if he was being honest with himself, he would take any excuse to touch the girl with the kind eyes and a megawatt smile. He grabbed her and twirled her gently. Jemma laughed and smiled at him. Her laugh was contagious. Her hands were soft and warm and small and he held them as they danced. He would only let go so he could touch her face, her waist, or run his hand down her arms to finally get back to holding her hand and twirling her and swaying to the music. 

They danced for hours, only stopping to add more drinks to his tab. Jemma kept trying to pay for her own drinks, but he refused to let her. He just smiled at her seductively and kissed her instead. Her lips were soft and warm, her skin tasted like what Grant could only describe as sunshine. It wasn't all that surprising that when Grant was closing out his tab for the night she whispered in his ear, “I have a room at the hotel down the street”.

The door to her hotel room hadn't even finished closing behind them when she ripped his jacket off and quickly did away with his shirt as well. She took a moment to look at him shirtless. He saw her pupils dilate and her breathing increase. Sometimes working out had its advantages.

Grant started kissing her more slowly than they'd been moving up until that point.

“Zipper?” he moved away briefly to ask.

She turned around and he slowly pulled down the zipper on the back of her dress. She took her dress off slowly, and tossed it onto the chair. Grant took the opportunity to run his hands down her back and undo her bra as well. He placed slow kisses along the back of her neck.

She turned around and started kissing his well defined chest, slowly working her way up to his very kissable lips.

Grant placed her on the bed and stood between her legs. Jemma's hands were busy undoing his pants while simultaneously stroking him through the fabric. He kicked off his shoes and socks and kicked away his pants when they were finally off. It wasn't long until all of their clothes were off and they were making out on top of the bed.

He found a spot on her neck she really liked and relished in the noises he was able to elicit from her when he sucked on her skin. She gave a breathy moan each time his hands would brush against her breasts as he made his way down her body. He teased her entrance with the tips of his fingers, touching her just enough to leave her wanting more. And when she would rock her hips for more friction, her look of utter frustration and puffed cheeks left him grinning.

She must have gotten tired of waiting because she finally pushed him down on the bed and climbed on top of him. The first few seconds being inside of her were pure bliss. As they moved together if felt like the world had stopped. Grant had always enjoyed sex, but this was on another level entirely.

By the time he was completely satisfied, ravishing her into a boneless pile of bliss, she came with a shout tumbling down for the second time that night.

They fell asleep in each others arms. Grant wasn't much for cuddling, but Jemma was soft and warm and smelled like springtime. They were asleep for a few hours, before she woke him up to do it all over again. And again. And once more in the shower the next morning, for good measure.

 

Present Day - Compound Outside of Mexico City

 

Grant limped onto the bus, leaning heavily on his right leg, the stupid decryption thing in his right hand. He'd had to take down four different guys, one of whom had managed to get a knife into his left leg. He turned on his com and informed Coulson he was back on the plane with the device FitzSimmons created. Coulson informed him they'd be taking off now, since May and Skye had already returned with Agent Simmons and asked to meet him in his office immediately before cutting off communication.

He could see Skye and the annoying Agent Fitz moving around in the med lab with Dr. Drake. Someone he assumed was Agent Simmons was obscured by a curtain. He'd wanted to get some supplies for the knife wound on his leg, but wasn't interested in the big crowd. He had hoped to quickly sneak in and out with his supplies and stitch himself up somewhere else.

He went into the lab, completely focused on getting the supplies he needed. He could hear Fitz launching questions at Dr. Drake about why he'd sedated agent Simmons, while Skye tried to calm him down in the background. He put Fitzsimmons device down next to a pile of clothes in order to reach for the sterile gauze strips, when he actually took a good look at the pile of clothes in a clear plastic bag on the table. The bag was labelled “Simmons” but there was something oddly familiar about the clothes. Grant put the gauze down and picked up the bag, turning it over in his hands. His wife had the same exact shirt. She also had the exact same socks. Dark blue and fuzzie with little bunny rabbits on them. Evelyn had picked them out for her when they'd gone shopping. Grant had teased her about it, but Jemma of course, thought they were adorable and wore them often.

Grant felt his body go rigid and cold. In that moment, he knew without a doubt that he was holding his wife's clothes. But he also knew that he couldn't possibly be holding his wife's clothes, because his wife was in Denver, for a lecture.

He turned around to look at the woman lying unconscious in the med lab bed. His heart started beating in his ears. The woman on the bed looked exactly like his wife. She had Jemma's face, Jemma's hair, and Jemma's soft delicate hands; the hands Grant loved so much. She looked like Jemma, but she couldn't be.

Fitz was still chattering on while Skye tried to calm him, they had yet to notice Grant was in the med lab with them. Grant couldn't hear them anymore, he couldn't hear anything over the loud thumping of his heart and a strange ringing in his ears. He didn't realize he'd moved towards the imposter on the bed until he was reaching out to touch her face, his hand shaking against his will.

“Ward, are you okay?” Skye asked him. He looked up to see that they were all looking at him strangely. “Coulson said you're supposed meet him once you get back… Come on, I'll take you to him.” Skye moved towards him slowly. It was only when Grant realized she was trying to pull him away by his other hand that he reacted. He tore his arm away from her.

“Is this a joke?” Grant said, his voice raw. “Why is she here?”

“Agent Simmons?” Skye asked

“No! This is not Agent Simmons. What is she doing here?!” Grant saw out of the corner of his eye Skye move away to page someone for help.

Finally Dr. Drake spoke up. “I've sedated her while she recovers from some drugs she was forced to take while being held.” Grant's eyes snapped up to him.

“But how is she here!? This isn't possible!” Grant raised his voice at them. No one was answering his question.

“You're her husband right? You're Grant?” Agent Fitz finally spoke. Grant turned to face him quickly. He could see that the annoying agent Fitz knew something he didn't, and Grant didn't like not knowing things. “She wanted to tell you, but Agent Hand wouldn't let her.”

Skye pressed the button to page Coulson repeatedly, her face marred with confusion and trepidation. She quietly muttered something into her com that Grant couldn't hear.

“Tell me what? What the hell is going on!?” Grant moved closer to Fitz, ready to hurt him if he gave him the wrong answer.

“Your wife, Jemma. She's a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent.”

Grant suddenly felt sick. “She's...”

“She's Agent Simmons,” Fitz finished quickly. Skye had stopped pressing the page button and had suddenly gone very still and wide eyed.

Grant did the only thing he could think of. He ran to the bathroom and locked himself in. The realization of his wife’s betrayal overwhelmed him with immense anger. His wife was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent! They were married, they had a child together. How could she not have told him? In his rage he barely noticed his fist shattering the bathroom mirror.

But the more he thought about it, the more blamed himself. How could he not have seen it? Jemma was a genius; there was no way she would have been satisfied just working as a lab tech. And the way she’d been so agitated, especially over the past year. Had she known he worked for S.H.I.E.L.D.? How long had she intended to keep this charade in place? Would she ever have told him the truth, had he not found out on his own? 

Grant felt his stomach twist violently at all the questions that kept popping into his head. He ended up heaving the contents of his stomach into the sink filled with shattered glass. His perfectly normal personal life outside of work had suddenly been turned upside down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:  
> Shut Up and Dance By: Walk the Moon  
> Wicked Games (Explicit) By: The Weeknd  
> Hero By: Regina Spektor
> 
> NOTE: Special shout outs to Gemi for her constant demand that I finish the chapter, and to SapphireGlyphs for editing and for being the most awesome friend a girl could ask for. Please let me know if you enjoyed it.


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